It's too hot to chew gum.
I've been informed that my last post was depressing. It was supposed to be a bit of a joke, mostly for those of us who tend toward the melancholy and the laugh at ourselves soon after the mawkishness fades.
I have been feeling a little unable to blog, but it has been far too long, and the domesticated birds are utterly desolated by now.
So. Just when I thought I'd seem my last fireworks for the year, we happened upon a fountain down the street from Coffee Cartel hanging out after housechurch. It was luminescent and dazzling. We spent some moments transfixed. Dassler rescued a cicada from the water and we took turns holding it and examining its "otherness"--the stained glass window wings (Laura), the melancholy eyes, the one wounded leg.
I have been surprised over and over this year at how much house church as been a blessing and stabilizing influence in my life. There really is no pretense. We come together to eat, to sing, to cry, to read those Holy, Living scriptures, to group in twos and threes and talk to the Father. It is such a blessing that sometimes I wait for the other shoe to drop, so to speak. God, thank you for this gift.
We come to him tarnished, mostly dross. Only a loving God would make some of the polishing, burning, and reshaping such a delight to the soul.
A haiku, for fun. For those of us who enjoy counting syllables. Missing season---unless the liturgical calendar counts.
Pentecost
Spirit descended.
Presence in the upper room:
Yahweh, a bright flame.
The cicadas outside these windows are singing, and so are the leaves, if you listen closely enough. Cheers.
I have been feeling a little unable to blog, but it has been far too long, and the domesticated birds are utterly desolated by now.
So. Just when I thought I'd seem my last fireworks for the year, we happened upon a fountain down the street from Coffee Cartel hanging out after housechurch. It was luminescent and dazzling. We spent some moments transfixed. Dassler rescued a cicada from the water and we took turns holding it and examining its "otherness"--the stained glass window wings (Laura), the melancholy eyes, the one wounded leg.
I have been surprised over and over this year at how much house church as been a blessing and stabilizing influence in my life. There really is no pretense. We come together to eat, to sing, to cry, to read those Holy, Living scriptures, to group in twos and threes and talk to the Father. It is such a blessing that sometimes I wait for the other shoe to drop, so to speak. God, thank you for this gift.
We come to him tarnished, mostly dross. Only a loving God would make some of the polishing, burning, and reshaping such a delight to the soul.
A haiku, for fun. For those of us who enjoy counting syllables. Missing season---unless the liturgical calendar counts.
Pentecost
Spirit descended.
Presence in the upper room:
Yahweh, a bright flame.
The cicadas outside these windows are singing, and so are the leaves, if you listen closely enough. Cheers.
posted by angela at 5:49 PM
5 Comments:
Thanks for this lovely post, Angela. And that was lovely night by the fountain, funky noveau Tai Chi dancer and all.
I take great delight in syllable counting for haiku and even more for sonnets. I do it on my fingers. I really liked this one. Pentecost is totally a spring festival, so it works. Still waiting for the ecstatic utterances though :)
nice haiku. i been doing that too, lately.
Nice pictures, Angela, I did not notice them the first time. I may have to steal one for my Facebook page.
i couldn't figure out how to send them from my phone, which is new and snarky. they were a post post add.
thanks daphne! will you share yours, or is a just for fun kind of thing?
Angela, you tell Daphne about The Contest.
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